


Contentment

by aizia



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Female Eivor (Assassin's Creed), Please appreciate the rhythm of the flyte that part took me so long lmaoo, Post-Canon, Some soft romance for Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 16:27:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29456718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aizia/pseuds/aizia
Summary: Eivor furrowed her brow in a brief moment of hesitation, and Randvi poked her in the arm. “Are you worried I will make you look foolish in front of your clan, jarl?”Or: things are peaceful now in the settlement, and Eivor has time to do indulgent things like flyte with her lover and luxuriate on her hopes for their future together.
Relationships: Eivor/Randvi (Assassin's Creed)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 130





	Contentment

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentines Day, International Fanworks Day, and happy 100th Randivor fic!

The feast was a little less rowdy than they often were; perhaps it was the late summer air, warm and sluggish and mellowing, untouched yet by the first hints of autumn.

Eivor sat back and listened to the sounds of chattering and drinking, her heart settling into a light place it found itself in more often, lately. Her stomach was full of bread and meat and cake, buzzed only a little from the mead. From beside her, Randvi’s arm brushed against her every so often, and her hand rested on Randvi’s knee, steady.

She felt good.

Freed of the shackles of a fate she had never truly wanted, and for the first time, living in a peace of her own finding, right where she was, with her people.

And if the rest of her days were to be as this, it would be a blessing, higher than anything a god could give her; the thought wrapped around her like a blanket warmed in the sun.

“You are looking drowsy, Sunbeam,” Birna called from across the table. “Like you need some excitement to keep you awake.”

Eivor smiled, squeezed Randvi’s knee. “I am only content.”

“Perhaps some flyting would liven up her spirits!” Alvis said, expectedly ignoring this admission.

Eivor could feel Randvi’s eyes on her, now. “Perhaps it would,” Randvi said innocently, a mischievous glint to her smile Eivor had long become quite familiar with.

“In all this time, I have never seen our Randvi flyte,” Birna said. “Our Sunbeam versus the Tablemaiden! A match for the ages, I’d say.”

Randvi’s smile grew; Eivor could tell she was relishing this opportunity. “Will you accept the challenge, Eivor?” she asked.

Eivor furrowed her brow in a brief moment of hesitation, and Randvi poked her in the arm. “Are you worried I will make you look foolish in front of your clan, jarl?”

A couple of cheers from around them, and Eivor grinned. “I would be honoured if you defeated me in front of our clan, Randvi.” Her eyes softened. “The truth of it is—even if it is in jest, I would rather not have to insult you.”

Randvi exhaled abruptly in something that resembled a laugh. Eivor had heard that sort of laugh from her many times before by now, in the moments when Randvi would cup her jaw and say, _My soft Eivor,_ voice hushed in quiet marvel _._ Then she held Eivor’s gaze, determined, unblinking. “Then don’t.”

“Understood,” Eivor said, nodding and half-smiling. “Then I accept.”

Randvi sat down across from Eivor so they could face one another. Aside from those sitting alongside them, ten or twelve had paused their conversations to watch them, drawn to the small commotion. Randvi gestured forward with her hand. “Go on, then, Eivor. We will bet on the satisfaction of victory.”

Eivor took a sip of mead and then swallowed, pausing only for a moment or two to look at the woman across from her before she spoke.

“If I may speak of your beauty, it runs wild and free.” Randvi tilted her head, watching Eivor neutrally. “Your eyes draw me in, like high tides of the sea.” The room was quieter now than it had been moments ago, and Eivor’s gaze was drawn to the bright glint of Randvi’s auburn hair in the candlelight. “When sun beams on your skin my breath halts in my chest...”

Randvi raised her brows slightly, settling her chin onto her palm with an air of indifference. “I’m afraid I won’t falter, if that is your best.”

Eivor grinned widely at this, at the tipsy cheering that followed.

“A perfect cadence,” Alvis said, voice rising among the commotion. “She will have you beat, silver-tongue.”

Eivor was still smiling, waving her hand for quiet. “It is not over yet.”

She focused her gaze again on Randvi; the woman watched her with a rapt attention that belied her nonchalance. Eivor took her hand then, across the table, smoothing her finger over Randvi’s thumb. “Your love and your care, it is treasure: I confess. I’d be a fool to see it as anything less.” Randvi’s gaze softened, only enough for Eivor to notice, and warmth flooded her chest at the look, at the honesty of her own words. “I don’t know where I’d be, without you as my guide...”

Randvi readjusted Eivor’s hand so she could wrap their fingers together. “As long as you’ll have me, I’ll stay by your side.”

Eivor’s quiet laughter was drowned out by more shouts and coos. She brought Randvi’s hand to her lips with care and pressed a kiss there, soft and deliberate. Randvi smiled, eyes creased with the joy of it, and everything else seemed to fall away; Eivor would bring the world home to see that face.

“Of all the roads I have travelled, of all the paths I’ve pursued, the only course I desire is one that leads me to you. I have yearned for your nearness, in every joy and each strife…”

“May I share them with you, for the rest of my life?” Randvi finished. 

At that, Eivor hardly registered the rowdy cheering of the small crowd around them, nor the scattered shouts about who had won the round. “Randvi,” she said, nearly quiet enough to be whisked away by the furor, “is this how you feel, in truth?”

Randvi was flushed and smiling. “It is how I have always felt.”

Eivor shook her head gently. “Come to me,” she said simply, out of words to express what burned steady in her chest.

Randvi moved to cross the table and, instead of sitting back beside Eivor, settled directly into her lap; Eivor laughed at their sudden closeness, pulling Randvi’s warm weight against her and holding her tightly.

Eventually, once their chief advisor in the lap of their jarl had ceased to be a point of interest, villagers returned to their mead and conversations, and the feast lulled around them.

Randvi pulled back slightly a few moments later, far enough to look into Eivor’s eyes; she did not bother to hide the glassy tenderness that must have been clear there.

Randvi’s affection often caught her in a place that felt fragile: she was a love and a life she had long never dared hope for.

“You are crying, my love,” Randvi said, wiping away a tear from her chin.

The kiss they shared was slow and unhurried, thrumming with the knowledge of a thousand more chances; Eivor had shared a bed with Randvi for a year now, and shared a love for much longer, but for the first time since she had fallen in love with her, she allowed herself to give in to the certainty of a future together.

It felt like a precious indulgence.

“So who won?” Randvi asked, breathless as they pulled apart.

“I believe I have,” Eivor said, “seeing as you are in my lap.”

Randvi pulled Eivor’s head to her chest, tugging lightly at her braid. “You should know I won’t let you take this that easy.”

Eivor smirked. “And yet where you have placed my head does not disprove my argument,” she said, muffled in Randvi’s chest.

Randvi hummed benignly despite guiding Eivor’s head in even closer. Eivor’s laughter was light as she settled against the softness of her, eyes already growing heavy at the way Randvi had started to play with her braid.

They would take each other to bed later, and Eivor would sing her devotion and whisper her promises, to hold her in turn, through every joy and each strife, until she took her last breath.

But for the moment, Eivor held her freely, amongst her people, her friends.

And for that, she was content.


End file.
